


Unsubstantiated Deficiencies

by almeida4eva



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF, F/M, GoT, Love, brienne of tarth - Freeform, jaime lannister - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:38:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almeida4eva/pseuds/almeida4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne argue and talk....and argue… Hopefully this will be more than one chapter! no promises how long it will take me to post another though! ;P -X-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

'My Lady.... My Lady?... Brienne!!' Jaime's voice echoed down the hallway after her bouncing off the stone walls; he had followed her immediately upon seeing how upset she was. What he did not know was why.

 

Brienne entered her chambers and slammed the door behind her - at least she would have if a Golden Hand had not caught it before impact. She remained still and silent as the owner of the hand granted himself entrance into her private living space and gently clicked the door shut behind himself. It was no real travesty, Ser Jaime had been alone in her chambers numerous times... not to mention the countless nights on the road and during the war when they had been sharing a bed roll, pressed so closely together that it was hard to tell which limbs belonged to whom come morning.

 

It was strange adjusting to sleeping alone after so many nights of having a companion beside you. Jaime knew that the wench missed it as much as he did. Though she was loath to admit it... no matter how many times he had tried to pry it from her stubborn lips.

 

He didn't know what had gotten into her. They had been on Tarth for less than a sennight and he thought that they had both been adjusting well to living a 'normal' life again. Brienne's face had contorted grotesquely when Jaime had announced he was to accompany her home and enquire as to whether her father had need of him in his service. He liked to think that he saw - underneath the scorn - a glint of happiness in his Wench. That may have been wishful thinking on his part, but he chose to believe that he saw it all the same.

 

Brienne's hands were clenched into fists. Unadulterated anger was pouring off of her in waves. She was taking considerable effort to control her breathing and appear unfased by whatever it was that had changed her mood so considerablly.

 

* * *

 

They had been in the dining hall drinking. Supper had been a quiet and plesant affair. Some hedge knights were staying overnight in the Castle along with a few lesser nobles. Their business on Tarth was short and they would be leaving by luncheon the next day. Jaime and Brienne had been reminiscing in a darkened corner; tales involving Bears and Maiden's and Dragon's and other things best left well alone. The hall had been thick with merriment; Tarth seemed to be a world away from what Jaime had always known. The inhabitants, for the most part, where honest and kind - it was clear to see how Brienne came to have such a strong character.

 

Jaime had left Brienne for a few moments to take a piss and then re-fill their wine cups. As he was carrying a flagon of wine back to their seculded corner he saw two lowly hedge knights exchanging words with Brienne. As he approached the bench to take his previous spot the two men left without another word. From the way they stumbled into the tables and leant heavily on one another it was obvious that they were well into their cups.

 

Jaime looked at Brienne closely when she did not acknowledge his return or take up the goblet now full of wine that he presented her. Her hands were flat on the surface of the table, pressing hard into the wood. Jaime leaned in close and asked her in a hushed voice what was wrong, what those men had said to her - she did not answer, would not look at him. Her face was stone, her eyes cold, she pushed herself up in a rush; her feet moving of their own accord - she had to get away. She was a fool to think things would ever change.

 

* * *

 

 

'Please My Lady, what has angered you so?' Jaime pleaded softly. He knew not to push too hard when Brienne was so upset - she would just close herself off even more.

 

'It was nothing I have not heard before. It should not bother me.' She looked so confused at her own emotions and so very young that Jaime ached to pull her into his arms. But he did not want to spook her. Not when her emotions were raging in turmoil as they were now.

 

'It shouldn't.' Jaime said, a firm statement. He knew that whatever those bastards had said would be the usual bullshit; 'ugly', 'mannish', 'stupid', the same old shit that these ingrates would spout. 'But it does.' He finished. 

 

Brienne shifted her weight from foot to foot, her boots scuffing across the dusty floor. Her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Jaime knew she was fighting with herself, should she talk to him? Or hide herself away? He could already guess the outcome of that battle.

 

'Ser, you should leave. I... need to sleep.' _Of course._ He knew her too well. And yet, not well enough. 

 

The more time Jaime spent with Brienne the more he craved to know everything about her. She did not share many private things with him... Her thoughts and feelings were closely guarded behind their high walls. He could not fault her - after all of the betrayals and cruelty that had been inflicted on her in the past he was astounded at how honourable and noble she remained. How she still managed to see the good in people; when most had only shown her their worst side, was beyond him. He himself was guilty of such when they had first met. Jaime hated himself for his part in her insecurities.

 

'My Lady, _please_ speak to me.' He reached out to her, his good hand almost grazing her shoulder, but she turned away from him, her shoulders hunched, her head hung low so as to avoid his searching gaze. 

 

'Do _not_ hide from me Wench!' Brienne flinched. Jaime's voice was harsher than he had wanted but he was angry at her for turning away from him... at himself for pushing her... at those bastards from the dining hall.

 

Brienne heard him take a deep breath. She knew he was frustrated with her; knew he would leave in a few moments once he was fed up with waiting for a dull mute to answer him. Then she could let it all out, she could curl up on her bed and let everything that was raging within her out. There were footsteps behind her, she waited for the door to open and close, signalling Jaime's departure. It did not come.

 

After a long period of silence, his voice spoke out in a brittle whisper disturbing the hush of the room.

 

'When you look upon me, do you only see my maimed hand?' Startled Brienne turned to see that Jaime had seated himself in the large chair beside the fire. He was carefully and methodically removing his Golden Hand and unwrapping the bindings that protected his sensitive, scarred stump. The firelight flickered across his golden hair and face. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him and she was happy that his gaze was transfixed by the flames so that he did not notice. Jaime was honestly intrigued to know the answer, he was more insecure about his missing hand than he liked to admit.

 

'It is not _all_ I see.' Jaime looked up to see her blushing a furious shade of Lannister red. Her directness had shocked him, his eyebrows crept up his face delightedly. 

 

'You see me.' He stated kindly, a smirk tugging at his perfect lips. 

 

'Yes.' Brienne breathed out. Her heart was pounding and her gaze flittered around the room, landing anywhere but Jaime's face. 

 

'Then _why_ would you doubt that I would only see your afflictions.' Jaime paused, swallowing around the lump in his throat, his adam's apple bobbing from the effort. 'I am not that man anymore.' His voice was raw and thick with emotion. Brienne could not question his sentiment; but her mind refused to believe what her heart already knew.

 

'Because your affliction is _nothing_ – you are comparing one drop of water to the entire ocean – I could drown in my short-comings.' Her frustration bloomed into anger and hurt. 

 

Jaime rose to his feet, furious at her denial and prostetations. _Damn all the people responsible for this to the darkest of the Seven Hells._ 'Dammit wench! Would that you could see yourself through someone else’s eyes for a moment.'

 

'I do not think my views would change Ser.' She said stubbornly. Her voice faltered and her dazzling blue eyes shone with unshed tears.

 

'Through my eyes then.' That made her look at him; clearly for the first time since leaving the food hall. He looked just as upset and angry as she did. Why did this affect him so? Brienne could not understand. _Stupid, perfect, Jaime._

 

'Do not mock me Ser, it does not suit your tongue.' It was the harshest she had spoken to him in a long time - probabbly since his 'Kingslayer' days - why did he insist on tormenting her thus.

 

'Do not imagine to know what suits my tongue, sweetling.' The letcherous tone was all The Kingslayer, but the warmth and honesty in his eyes was pure Goldenhand, Ser Jaime Lannister. His feet carried him towards her; leaving a breath's width between them. Slowly and carefully he placed his hand on her ruined cheek, his thumb stroking lovingly, daring her to crack beneath his touch. He leaned in so that his face was inches from her's, her breath hot on his neck, his caressing her ear. Jaime felt her tense, her breath catching in her throat. Brienne could not move; torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. He moved his stump to rest on her hip, holding her to him.

 

'Do not presume to know the thoughts of others... where one man may look up at the night sky and see nothing but darkness; another need only focus his gaze to see the stars beyond.' His lips grazed the outline of her ear as he spoke and he could feel her shudder slightly at the sensation. He smiled against her cheek, glad that he had such an effect on her.

 

Brienne's mind was racing with every emotion she could ever feel; confusion, hurt, want, insecurities, lust, trust, hope...

 

Jaime's eyes were searching hers emphatically. They were nose to nose, the heat from their bodies bouncing back and forth in the small sliver of space between them.

 

'Soon, My Love.' He kissed her forehead soundly, his hand tightening on her neck. Jaime knew she was not ready for more; not yet. 'Soon.' He whispered again against her forehead, his lips smooth and sensuous against her skin.

 

Brienne unclasped her hands from his tunic; quite how they became tangled in the soft fabric she was unsure. And for once she was not overly embarrassed by her pink stained cheeks and neck. She watched Jaime leave her rooms, the firelight casting his shadow across the length of the floor - a giant. When she heard the soft click of the door, she allowed herself to breathe normally. She noticed that Jaime had left his Golden Hand on the mantle of the fire place, a smiled graced her lips tentatively. 

 

Things were different now; things would never be the same again - of that she was sure.

 

 


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter may just be a whole lot of rambling and not too much happening…. :-/
> 
> On with the show….

  
_'Filthy whore.. Shaming your father - only to drop the Kingslayer in his lap. 'Tis a disgrace if ever there was one.' Brienne knew that both men were clearly drunk from the way they slurred their words and from the glassy look of their eyes._

_'You must be a pretty good fuck to get 'im into bed though. His sister was the sweetest piece of cunt I've ever laid eyes on.' The second drunkard sneered. Brienne cringed at the comparison to Jaime's perfect golden sister._

_'Maybe he likes 'em bigger and stronger than 'imself... some men like to be dominated in the bed chamber... makes up for having a small cock - or not knowing what to do with it!'_

_'Is that it... eh Beauty... does he like it when you fuck him from behind like the aurochs you are?'_

_Brienne was preparing to punch them both square in the face for their insults, but she saw Ser Jaime returning to her and thought better of it. She thought it best not to inform Jaime on what the men had been saying - only Gods knew what he would do to them! In truth their words had hurt her more than she cared to admit. The insults on her features and faults did not touch her... they slid off her thick skin; a lifetime of weathering verbal (and sometimes physical) abuse had made her tough. Besides, she knew they spoke the truth - who was she to deny it._

_The slights against her father and Jaime had cut her deeply; they did not deserve to be sullied just because of their association to her. And the comparisons that everyone liked to make between herself and Cersei were always a painful subject. How could she ever hope to compare?_   


* * *

  
  
Jaime had _eventually_ convinced Brienne to give him a tour of her Island. He had insisted; conveniently bringing up the conversation in the presence of Lord Selwyn Tarth - if she refused, her father would see it as disrespectful. After all Jaime was from a larger, more prominent House; no matter what their reputation, the Lannisters were to be respected. And Jaime had assured Selwyn that no other host would do but his heir and daughter.  
  
Begrudgingly she met him in the yard mid-morning.   
  
'Wench! It seems we have a fine day for our touring.' Jaime was beaming as she approached him. She blushed slightly, remembering his words and actions two days past. Brienne was thankful for the cool, light breeze that caressed her cheeks, cooling them wonderfully.  
  
'We should head out Ser. There is much and more to see.' Brienne said brusquely as she took the reins of her horse offered to her by the stable boy.  
  
'Lead the way, my Lady Brienne.' Jaime's face was alight with glee. Brienne tried not to notice as she spurred her horse toward the main gates. Jaime waited just a moment to watch her; entranced by his Warrior Woman - strong and fierce as she rode hard toward the horizon that laid out before her. He dug his heels into Honour and raced behind her. _I'd follow her anywhere._  He thought to himself.  
  
They rode hard for the first few miles, almost reaching the other side of the picturesque Isle. When their horses began to wan Brienne slowed her pace to a slow trot, Jaime followed suit, pulling Honour up next to Brienne's mare. They rode side by side, taking in the sights. Occasionally Brienne would point out a particular landmark or comment on a pool where she used to swim as a child; she spoke as though she were alone - reminiscing rather than having a conversation. Jaime did not mind though. It was revelatory to see her eyes look back into the past - to see happier days. She truly looked her young age, how had she survived so much and come out of it relatively unscathed? How much of her torment was linked to Jaime? Her travelling him to Kings Landing, Harrenhal, the quest for his honour? His heart constricted.  
  
As they passed a secluded pool of water Jaime reached over and took Brienne's reins in his hand, pulling them both to a halt. The body of water was large with a waterfall plunging into the clear, sparkling water. Jaime dismounted his horse and Brienne followed suit.  
  
Brienne was oddly nervous. Of course she and Jaime had been alone numerous times in the past - but this felt different. After his kind words and promises of things to come she was unsure where exactly she stood in regards to Jaime.   
  
Jaime began to remove some bread and wine and water from his saddle bag. Arranging them carefully on a large stone boulder. Brienne could tell that he was being overly particular with his task. _He's buying time,_ she thought. Strangely comforted by his nervousness, perhaps she was not in this alone after all.  
  
When they had had quiet moments like this in the past there was always something hanging over them - the war, the search for the Stark girls, White Walkers. Now... there was nothing; no doom or duty to bind them together. There was just Jaime and just Brienne.   
  
Jaime could laugh at the scene of the two of them if it weren't so sickeningly perfect. Here they were; an old, crippled, wretch of a Knight and the ugliest, bravest, most courageous and loyal Maiden in all of the Seven Kingdoms - together on a romantic horse ride in the beautiful golden sunshine, resting at a glorious oasis. _How did they come to be Jonquil and Florian?_ He mused.  
  
Jaime considered sharing his thoughts with the Wench, but doubted she would see the humour. She'd probably beat him into the dust and ride home without him and that was _not_ how Jaime wanted this day to end. He moved to sit beside the large rock - a makeshift table of sorts.  
  
'Come My Lady, you must be as ravenous as I am.' He poured them both a small cup of wine, knowing Brienne would protest if he poured her a full cup.   
  
Brienne collapsed gracelessly to the ground beside him. She tore into a hunk of bread, keeping a piece for herself and handing Jaime another. In return he passed her a wine cup. Their fingers brushed and Brienne felt a jolt of warmth strike through her. _She was such a Maid!_ She cursed at her own inexperience. Was Jaime even really courting her? It is what he had suggested that night in her chambers was it not? She felt foolish - they had not spoken properly to one another since that evening. Brienne began to panic that she had misinterpreted Jaime's words... until he spoke.  
  
'Red suits you well My Lady.' He took a long sip of his red wine, the liquid burned his throat and thrummed in his veins. His eyes watched her over the rim of his cup.  
  
'I am wearing blue, Ser.' Brienne cleared her throat, trying to avoid the directness of Jaime's emerald gaze.  
  
'I did not mean _this_ ,' Jaime put down his cup and reached out slowly, his fingers tugged on the hem of her sky blue tunic. 'I meant _this_.' Jaime rose his hand to her cheek, caressing across its freckled surface, down to her strong jaw and slowly dragged his fingers down the slope of her milky pink tinged neck, coming to rest on her exposed, freckle adorned collarbone.  
  
Brienne spluttered, half choking on the small piece of bread in her mouth. She took a sip of wine to clear the obstruction. 'You should not say such things Ser Jaime.'  
  
'I will say them if it pleases me to.'  
  
'It may please you Ser, as most things do. But I do not like to be mocked, you know this and yet you contribute to it.' Brienne could not grasp that Jaime was being serious, no man had ever found anything about her appearance pleasing.  
  
'I do not mock you Wench.' Jaime could not believe that she could doubt him - after all they had been through together... but when he reflected on what her life had been like... He could not fault her for her caution. 'Wench, I have not, nor will I _ever_ lie to you.' He moved closer to her so that they were shoulder to shoulder.  
  
'Others mock me... And they will mock you for being with me. They will jape and laugh at your expense. I would not wish that upon you Jaime.' Her voice was timid that Jaime had to tilt his head to catch it all.  
  
Jaime could understand her reluctance. It was the same way he felt whenever he heard them whisper 'Kingslayer' or even worse, 'Kingslayer's Whore'.   
  
'Brienne, others have mocked me my entire life, even my own family! I hear Kingslayer whispered wherever I go. But the thoughts of others do not concern me. I will do what I desire, with whomever I desire.' Jaime was _so_ confident.  
  
'I envy you.' Brienne muttered.  
  
Jaime laughed a little. 'You would be the first Sweetling. Though I should amend what I have just said,' he shifted slightly so that they were facing each other, he took her large hand in his as he spoke, rubbing soothing circles onto her wrist. 'I _am_ concerned by the thoughts of others... when they are directed less than gentlemanly towards you.'  
  
Brienne looked out across the water; the waterfall crashing into the crystal blue water, spending ripples across the flawless surface of the lake. She squeezed Jaime's hand instinctively.   
  
'Are you ready to tell me what those vermin said to you that had you so upset?' Jaime's voice was soft and reassuring, he was patient with her like no-one else before had ever been. He gave her the courage to open up to him. And so she regaled him with the story.

 

* * *

  
  
Brienne knew that inside Jaime was raging. His grip had been firm on her hand whilst she relayed the tale of what the two knights had said. She even attempted to explain that it was the thought of shaming Jaime and her Father that had ultimately upset her more than the tediously repetitive insults.  
  
They sat silently for a few long moments. Each taking the time to calm their nerves and arrange their thoughts - their hands remained linked. Finally Jaime stood, dragging Brienne up with him. The sun was high in the sky, mid-day; it was blazing and Jaime felt more relaxed than he had in years.  
  
Jaime took a couple of steps towards the water's edge - pulling Brienne with him, then suddenly halted and spun to face the Maid. The move unbalanced her, flummoxing her movements so that she all but slammed into his muscled chest.   
  
'Soon, my Love, you will be able to tell them just how well endowed I am _and_ that I am _extremely_ knowledgeable about what to do with it...'  
  
Her face flamed with embarrassment and indignity... and excitement. Before she could form a coherent retort Jaime spoke again.  
  
'On second thoughts, never-mind, the whole of the Castle and beyond will soon hear you screaming out my name in the throws of pleasure.' Brienne gasped at his bawdy directness, glad that there was no one around for miles to overhear such a statement. Her face and neck must have been glowing a hideous shade of crimson.  
  
Jaime guffawed loudly, winking exaggeratedly at her. She slapped his arm, open fisted, but hard. He was joking with her, messing with her to get a reaction. She allowed a tiny smile to settle onto her broad lips. But then his expression changed into something more serious. Only partly joking then.  
  
The air between them became charged and palpable. Jaime released her hand and Brienne tried not to look too forlorn at the loss of contact. Jaime's eyes held her's firmly, the sun casting him in a golden halo before her. He smiled warmly and - never taking his gaze from her's - he took a step back. His good hand came up to his tunic, releasing the ties from their binds, exposing a large area of firm, tanned skin.  
  
'What are you...?' Brienne's question was swallowed whole when Jaime relieved himself of his tunic altogether. In one swift motion he had removed it from his torso, pulling it over his head and flinging the garment to the ground. His hair was an endearing mess, defiantly poking out in all directions. Brienne's fingers itched to smooth it back down... to ruffle it further...   
  
Jaime was a sadist. He got off on Brienne's tortured expression. Teasing her was one of his greatest pleasures. Eliciting an outraged gasp from her lips or inducing her scarlet blush was a rush to him. He wondered at how he could become so hooked on a girl without having any real physical relationship with her. The most they had ever done was hold one another in the dead of night, keeping the nightmares at bay. Of course their sparring was physical but that was something else altogether. It was eloquent and passionate.  
  
'Care to join me for a swim My Lady Knight?' Jaime raised an eyebrow, challenging her to deny him.  
  
'I am neither a Lady nor a Knight.' She said bravely as her own hands moved to untie her tunic. The grin on Jaime's face was unmissable as he turned from her to make his way to the water, ridding himself of his breeches as he went. Giving Brienne a fine view of his firm ass as he strode out into the small lake. She took a deep steadying breath and followed him. _She would follow him anywhere._  
  


 


	3. 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling this is just a lot of mindless rambling….but it's Valentine's day….so fuck it! <3
> 
> I'm sending LOVE BEAMS to all of you beautiful people! :) MUCH LOVE PEEPS!!!! -X-

* * *

 

 

In truth Jaime did not want to turn from Brienne. Did not want to lose eye contact with her; but he was more nervous than he could explain. The overwhelming delight that surged through him when she had begun to untie her clothes was more than he could handle.  
  
Once he was in the warm water he found that it was not such a bad idea to go in ahead of his Lady. From his spot in the water his was able to watch her remove each piece of her clothing. He could study the strong sway of her hips as she approached the water; the small flicker of hesitation in her Sapphire eyes as she dipped a toe into the lake. He had never been allowed to admire her so openly before. His cock ached with such want and longing that it startled him. How long exactly had he lusted after the Wench without even realising it? Longer than he dared admit.  
  
Jaime moved further into the lake so that the water was high up on his chest. Brienne came to him willingly, her eyes roaming over his chest and arms and face, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. _Gods, she wants me too!_ Jaime thought.  
  
Jaime could not believe that this strong, supple, honourable young woman could desire an ageing cripple such as himself; but there was no denying it. It was there to see in her eyes, the same lust that was mirrored in his.  
  
Brienne took a deep calming breath and strode into the water with more conviction that she felt. The water lapped at her toes, her feet, her knees and thighs. It was cool on her skin but not uncomfortably so. It made her feel refreshed and gave her the courage to look upon Jaime's face. Her gaze snagged on the fine form of his body; memorising the hard planes of his chest and shoulders before they dipped below the surface of the water.  
  
'It is a pleasant feeling is it not my Lady?' Jaime's smooth voice bought her back to herself - too distracted by his body; she blushed at his knowing smile.  
  
She cleared her dry throat. 'Yes, Ser.' The water was now high on her chest, covering her small breasts and lapping at her collarbones.  
  
'I find myself reminiscent of Harrnehal.' If possible Brienne's blush deepened. 'Though perhaps these circumstances are more _agreeable_.'  
  
'Well the smell is certainly improved.' Brienne teased. Knowing that she could never win a war of words with Jaime but enjoying their banter nonetheless.  
  
'Ah yes, I do so miss the smell of mine own flesh rotting away under my nose.' Jaime said wryly, his brow arched and his smile askew. He noticed her eyes scanning his body once more. 'More flesh on my bones this time though.' He winked when her shocked eyes met his, a chuckle escaping his lips.  
  
Brienne set her shoulders, 'I recall that _you_ did your fair share of... _gazing_...back at Harrenhal, Ser.'  
  
'Yes, well... The sight of a tall, strong, stubborn maid dripping with water and wearing nothing but a scowl would be enough to distract most red-blooded men.' Jaime let his eyes rake over her form, slowly and surely, never wavering from their intent.  
  
'That is not appropriate Ser Jaime. Such things should not be said, especially to those such as me.' Brienne cringed a little at her own ineptitude at handling her feelings. Secretly she could listen to Jaime say such things - and more - all night. But out here, in the open daylight. It seemed too bold. Even for Ser Jaime Lannister.  
  
Jaime wadded closer to Brienne, slowly but with purpose. 'Why so formal my Lady?' He purred as he approached. She raised an eyebrow in return at his own formalness. 'Brienne, then.' He whispered, just inches from her. The water splashed in the space between them; bouncing from Brienne's chest to Jaime's and back again. A light breeze swept over them, prickling at their wet skin. They both shivered a little but the water or the wind were not the cause.  
  
Brienne began to move backwards, towards the rushing waterfall. Finding the sound and strength of the water comforting. Without hope or hesitation Jaime moved with her. Matching her step for step, their eyes never leaving each others. He was compelled to follow her, the shy look in her eyes, her timid retreat to the cover of the rocks and the waterfall... How could he _not_ follow her.  
  
Brienne stumbled as the heel of her foot came into contact with the small rocks that formed the base of the waterfall. Her hands darted out behind to steady herself, her eyes still fixated on Jaime.  
  
Strong arms slid around her waist, holding her up before her back could come into contact with the jagged rocks. Jaime's hold was firm; his good hand seemed to caress the wet skin on her hip without his consent. His stump was strong, supporting her toned back, holding her close.   
  
Her hands found purchase on Jaime's broad shoulders, the skin golden and slick beneath her calloused fingertips.  
  
The soft rush of the falling water surrounded them, encompassed in the shadows of the large rocks jutting out of the water. They were as secluded as they could be out in the countryside in the middle of the day. And for that they were both immensely thankful.   
  
Brienne's breath hitched as the sensation of Jaime's touch overwhelmed her. They were so close; only daylight could squeeze through the space between their naked bodies.   
  
Jaime wanted her; _needed_ her... If she had any doubts about the next step in their relationship he would stop. He assured himself that he _would_ be able stop. His eyes sought out the answer in her's. Vibrant Blue and vivid Green eyes clashed and they both had all the answers they needed.  
  
Jaime descended upon his Maiden. Leaning her against the rocks as gently as they would allow. His lips were soft and sweet as he kissed her. Their first real kiss; tasting of sunlight and water. He did not want to push her too far, too fast but the sigh that escaped her plump lips had his body pressing fully into hers.   
  
Brienne could barely process what was happening, the Golden Knight Jaime Lannister was kissing her! In broad daylight! In the water! NAKED! His lips tasted better than she could ever imagine. And he guided her through the motions without ever rushing her. Did he truly _like_ kissing her?! She sighed in contentment, unable to stop herself and Jaime growled in return, his hold on her tightening. Perhaps he _more_ than liked kissing her; she dared to hope.  
  
He could not say how long they stood there, just kissing and exploring one another's mouths. The noises he was making were becoming more and more animalistic but he could not find it in himself to care or be embarrassed; besides the Wench seemed to _like_ it. She picked up the rhythm of their kisses quickly and expertly - ever the eager student. Jaime thought that she tasted of life itself - fresh and young and jovial; he was drunk on it. On her! Seven Hells, he was in trouble of this is what she did to him just by kissing him.  
  
Brienne grunted a little as Jaime increased the pressure of his body on her's; or was it her that pulled him closer? It was hard to tell who instigated each touch. A sharp rock caught the back of her thigh causing her to gasp into Jaime's mouth.  
  
'Brienne?' Jaime ceased his ministrations at once. His gaze filled with concern and panic. 'Did I hurt you?' He took a half step back to look at her more clearly, searching her eyes and then quickly roaming her body for emotional and physical pain alike.  
  
'It was just a scratch.' She said, trying to pull him close again. 'I have had far worse, I assure you.'  
  
Jaime's face darkened a little at that. 'I need not reminding my Lady.' His words were quiet, uttered through clenched teeth.  
  
'Jaime, we both bare many scars; do not darken your thoughts with such musings.' Her voice was uncommonly soft.   
  
'Let me see.' Jaime insisted, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 'Please.' He added urging her to comply.  
  
Brienne turned her body sideways to better accommodate his view. She glanced down at the small wound as his hand caressed her thigh. It was a tiny scratch, bleeding little but made to look worse by the water.  
  
'It is nothing Ser. Barely a scratch.' Brienne reached out and caressed his cheek, the feel of his beard sending shivers down her spine.  
  
Jaime's eyes met her's. 'We should go all the same. We have a long ride back, night will fall soon.' Whatever spell they were under was seemingly broken. Jaime looked so conflicted that Brienne silently acquiesced; following him from the water she could not help but stare at his naked form. She felt brave - taking in the details of his body - without his smug gaze upon her.  
  
They dressed together in silence, stealing glances at one another. Jaime could see that Brienne was upset... He did not want her to remember this day so dejectedly.  
  
Brienne was busily re-packing their supplies and readying the horses. Jaime approached her quietly. Slipping his arms around her waist and burying his face into the place where her neck met her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. He could feel her trembling in his arms and revelled in the fact that he was the only one that could do this to her. The only one she allowed so close.  
  
His grip tightened as he kissed her shoulder, then her neck, and finally the spot just behind her ear that he discovered made her mewl deliciously. Brienne turned in his arms. Her eyes were alight with happiness. Pure and unadulterated. Jaime claimed her mouth, lips and tongue dominating her senses until she returned the gesture with enthusiasm.  
  
They kissed passionately. Hands grabbing, pulling hair, tearing clothes, whimpers of pleasure, a simple touch was not enough.  
  
'Brienne... Brienne please. We must stop.' Jaime was breathless. He held Brienne away from his body slightly. 'As much as I would gladly take you here and now - it would not be right. I won't dishonour you.' Brienne looked so forlorn that Jaime could not resist adding, 'Not yet anyway. But soon, my Love.'  
  
Brienne actually pouted at Jaime. Which he found somewhat scary as well as adorable. He kissed her thoroughly once more, a slow sensuous kiss that promised of more to come.  
  
They both mounted their steeds and headed home. Jaime had a lot to arrange - and the sooner he had the technicalities sorted the sooner he could go about making the honourable and noble Brienne of Tarth his Lady Wife.

_Brienne Lannister._    
  
A smile graced his lips at the thought. 


	4. 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story progresses….. ;P

The moment they had returned their horses to the stable Jaime had rushed off; claiming he had 'important' business to attend. Brienne wasn't entirely sure she believed him - but his departing kiss left room for little else in her mind. He pulled her close and pressed her up against the stall; his kiss stole her breath, and a little more of her heart. Though truth be told she suspected that the whole of her heart had belonged to him for a long, long time.

 

She watched him rush off towards the Castle, a smile playing on his lips. She would never be able to comprehend how a man such as he could care for her the way he did. Realising she was gazing after him like a love-struck fool she wiped her own grin from her too-wide lips, straightened herself and set off in search of a bath.

 

* * *

 

Jaime could not remember a time when he had been so nervous; the Mad King, the battle at Whispering Woods, being appointed to the Kingsguard - they all paled in the light of what he was about to do. 

 

He took in a deep breath, stowed his shoulders, raised his good hand and knocked on the chamber door of Lord Selwyn Tarth.

 

* * *

 

At dinner that evening Jaime was seated next to Brienne; he on her left, her father on her right - and next to Selwyn was his latest 'companion'. The meal was a welcome sight after Jaime and Brienne's meagre lunch.

 

All in all Jaime thought his talk with Selwyn had gone well. As well as he could have hoped really. He hadn't expected much - after all he was a man without honour and a sister-fucker…. _not_  a worthy suitor for a Lord's maidenly - and only - daughter.

 

Jaime had seen Brienne sneaking shy glances at him all through the meal. He could not blame her - he was guilty of the same crime. Peeking at her as she ate, as she laughed at one of her fathers jokes. Jaime could not remember seeing her look so free and uninhibited in the whole time he had known her. He vowed to make her this happy as often as he could in the future.

 

'My Lady, I was hoping that we could spar on the morrow? Gods know I need the practice.' Jaime leaned in close to her ear so that he did not have to shout to be heard over the noise of the small gathering in the great hall. 

 

'Ser, you have fought White Walkers on The Wall and you would have me believe that you need to practice your swordplay?' Brienne arched her brow at him playfully.

 

'Wench, are you  _mocking me_?' Jaime said incredulous - astonished but not the least bit perturbed by it. He loved when Brienne challenged him.

 

'Just a little.' Brienne replied coyly. A light blush dusted her cheeks. 

 

Jaime inched imperceptibly closer. He rested his stump on her thigh, wishing that he still had his hand so he could wrap his fingers around her leg and squeeze and stroke. But alas he had to make do with resting his cloth wrapped appendage on her leg and applying pressure. Brienne blushed scarlet - as if he  _had_  had his hand and was slowly but gently sliding it up her strong thigh, higher and higher until he had her gasping for air.  _If only_ , Jaime thought.

 

Brienne's demure smile told Jaime that she had understood his intention.

 

As the small feast was coming to an end Jaime gallantly offered to escort Brienne back to her chambers. She took his proffered arm and they walked from the hall and through the corridors like any other Lord and Lady or Knight and Fair Maiden might do. Gods knew that they were neither. They were much and more than that.

 

As Brienne opened her chamber door she paused in the threshold and turned to face Jaime. He looked a little apprehensive - if that was the right word. Brienne had rarely seen him look thus.

 

'Thank you, Ser Jaime.' 

 

'Always so formal,  _Wench_.' Jaime teased lightly. 'But perhaps not after I beat you into the dust on the morrow.'

 

A small laugh broke free from Brienne. 'We shall see. Though I would not be so sure if I was you.'

 

'Ah, but my Lady, I have a  _far_  greater incentive for winning.' Jaime's smile was broad and beaming. He swept into a low bow and bought Brienne's hand to his lips. They ghosted over her knuckles and he could feel her trembling ever so slightly at the contact. It was the most Knightly, fairytale-esque thing he had ever done.

 

With that he strode away, leaving Brienne a little confused. But nonetheless she slept well; looking forward to their sparring session the following day.

 

* * *

 

Brienne felt nervous as she stepped into the sparring ring. She had no reason to feel nervous, they had faced each other with swords in hand countless times. She could not fathom why this time felt different. It was something about the way Jaime had left her the previous evening.

 

It was then that Jaime appeared, decked out in soft breeches and a padded doublet - his outfit matching her own. Jaime looked relaxed and happy as he strode towards her. A smile - that seemed a permanent feature of his as of late - played on his lips, threatening to split his face in two.

 

'Well met, my Lady.' Jaime bowed at the waist ever so slightly. Stopping in front of Brienne, dulled practice sword in hand.

 

'Ser.' Brienne replied, adjusting her grip on the pommel of her sword.

 

'Would you accompany me in this dance?' He said wryly, a glimmer in his eyes.

 

A lunge to Jaime's right was Brienne's only reply. She always did prefer actions to words. Jaime just hoped that she would have the right words to say to him in a short while. He blocked the blow and parried the next. And for the first few exchanges he did not even  _want_  to attack; he was more than content to watch his Wench hacking and slashing away gracefully. However, when one strike came a little too close for comfort he decided it was time to switch from defence to offence.

 

Jaime moved quicker than he had in years. Using the Wench's strength to his advantage by parrying her blows and pushing the force of them back in her direction.

 

A small crowd gathered to watch the session. These were, after all, legends in the flesh. Real, live heroes from the tales and songs that filtered down to the rest of the realm from the Wall and beyond.

Jaime thought back to his conversation with Selwyn the previous evening.

 

* * *

  

'Enter.' Boomed the strong, mahogany voice of the Evenstar. Jaime took a steadying breath and pushed the heavy door open to see Lord Tarth standing by the hearth. He was a broad, solid looking man, a little shorter than Brienne - though that may be a symptom of his advancing years. His face was defined and commanding - it was clear that he was a soldier; a war veteran. Jaime could see clearly the features that Lord Tarth shared with his daughter; his eyes were the same hue as Brienne's but not quite as dazzling, their shoulders were the same width and they both had freckled cheeks - though the Wench's  _far_  outnumbered her fathers.

 

'Lord Tarth, might I have a word?' Jaime asked, not sure how the older man would respond to Jaime interrupting his evening.

 

'Lannister - if even  _half_  of the story's I have heard over the years about you and my daughter are true then you have  _more_  than earned the right to call me Selwyn.' He was, if nothing else, direct - which Jaime appreciated. He had had more than his fill of courtly corruption and espionage.

 

'Thank you, Selwyn.' Jaime's shoulders relaxed a little.

 

'Though, of course I do hope that more than a few of them are greatly…  _exaggerated_.' Selwyn's bushy brows raised on his forehead and his eyes pierced Jaime were he stood. He was, undoubtedly, referring to the more bawdy and inventive story's and lust-filled songs. Though Jaime could not deny that there was not  _cause_  for the works, he could confirm that there was no truth to them. Well, most of them.

 

'I would never debase your daughter.' Jaime said firmly so that the truth of his words was undeniable. He held Selwyn's gaze and added quietly, 'I would never cause Brienne harm. Ever.'

 

His eyes plead with Selwyn to be believed. To - for once in his life -  _not_  be judged without warrant.

 

The Evenstar straightened, cleared his throat and strode over to where Jaime was standing. He was an imposing man and Jaime was suddenly wondering if he could hold his ground should Selwyn not believe him.

 

'I should hope not.' Jaime sighed with relief. 'Now, why are you here Son?'

 

Jaime's heart clenched a little and the endearment. It meant more hearing Selwyn call him Son than it ever had hearing Tywin say it for over 30 years.

 

'I would like to ask for your blessing in asking you daughter to wed me.' Jaime said, his voice stronger than he felt inside. Selwyn did little but look at him and so Jaime let his mouth run away with him. 'I know I am not and honourable, decent man. And that Brienne deserves someone who is whole and young and strong,' Jaime's voice wavered without his permission. 'But I would  _love_  her. For all my days. I am a better man because of her. She's my world… I love her.'

 

Jaime could not bear to meet the older man's eyes for fear of what he might see. The disappointment and resentment that he had seen in face after face for more years than he could count. He would pursue Brienne nonetheless - but he knew it would not feel right without her father's blessing.

 

A large hand clamped down on Jaime's shoulder, knocking him from his reverie.

 

'My boy, you do not have my blessing, or my permission, or my approval.' Selwyn stopped and studied Jaime's crestfallen features, his tired eyes. 'Jaime, Son, you have my love and adoration. I know all that you have done for my daughter, the sacrifices you have both made, the indignity you have both endured. I see the way she looks at you - the way you both change when you are together. I would be proud to have you as my Son and as Brienne's husband.'

 

Jaime was so overcome with emotion at Selwyn's words that he could find no response. The Evenstar laughed raucously. 'Come, Jaime. I think you need a drink.'

 

* * *

 

Jaime swung furiously at Brienne, landing a hard hit to her torso. He winced, knowing she would be badly bruised. The pain only drove Brienne harder and Jaime struggled to keep her at bay, but he kept the upper hand. He pushed her back, advancing on her steadily - he was just about to make his move; to make her yield, when he miss-stepped. The Wench wasted no time in profiting from his misjudgement - she ducked out of his way, bought he sword down hard on the back of his shoulder and tripped him with her foot. He tumbled gracelessly to the floor in a cloud of dust, his dull sword skittered away from him, leaving him defenceless and at Brienne's mercy.

 

Brienne bought the tip of her sword to Jaime's neck and could not help smiling at his down-beaten face. 'Ser, I do believe you may need the practice after all. Do you yield?'

 

'This is not how I wanted to do this Wench. But needs must.' Jaime shifted so that he was resting on his elbows, looking up at Brienne, her sword still pressed to his neck. 'Brienne, I must ask you something.' He moved again so that he was kneeling before her. Worshipping at the alter that was his Wench, the Warrior come alive before his eyes.  He may never truly believe in the Seven but he would believe in her for all eternity.

 

'Ser, you must yield. You have lost the fight.' Brienne insisted, not fully believing what Jaime was attempting to ask her.

 

'I have not lost… but I will yield to you, my love. If you will yield to me also.' Jaime's voice was hoarse with emotion, thick with meaning. 

 

Brienne sunk to her knees also. A single tear escaped from her sapphire eyes, it rolled down her ruined cheek and finally her sword slipped from her grasp and away from Jaime's throat.

 

'Jaime… don't…' Brienne's words were strangled by the lump in her throat.

 

'Marry me, Wench.' His good hand reached up to trace the wet path of her tear. His hand caressed her cheek and swept past her neck and into her hair. He pulled her closer so that their foreheads were touching. Brienne's hands rested on Jaime's chest, gripping the fabric of his doublet; a silent urging for this not to be a jest. Jaime leaned forward, his lips brushing against her cheek, coming to rest at her ear. 'Be my wife.' He whispered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh!!! My laptop has been dicking about….has taken me forever to get this formatted correctly….. :( any who…..
> 
> Hope that was ok! The Big Day approaches….. or does it…!???? :P hehehe
> 
> MUCH LOVE DEARIES!!! -X-


	5. 5.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves a wedding..... :)
> 
> all mistakes are mine!! no thieving!! ;D

[Jaime and Brienne's Wedding (well similar to this anyway!)](http://www.alexandrasdreamweddings.com/images/keri/gallery//pics/01.jpg)

[Jaime and Brienne's Bedroom..... but imagine it older with big candles and massive fireplace!](http://media.emercedesbenz.com/magazine/wp-content/uploads/Palazzo-Terranova-library1.jpg)

 

And this [(So Pretty!)](http://www.operatorchan.org/s/src/137849960623.jpg) is Seljalandsfoss Waterfall in Iceland - I imagine it's what Tarth would look like.... :) <3

 

Happy reading folks! -X-

 

* * *

  

_“I am his, and he is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.”_

_“I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.”_

 

Brienne could think of nothing else as she and Jaime settled at the large table set up on the dais. Jaime’s fingers were intertwined with hers; had been since they came to stand together at the makeshift altar where they had exchanged their vows. Jaime's voice had grown tight and thick with emotion, his eyes shone with sincerity and unadulterated love. Brienne herself had mumbled through the words; not daring to believe that she was saying them and  _meaning_  them. But it was Jaime.  _Her_  Jaime. And for him she would defy the Gods themselves.

 

Their wedding had taken place the day after Jaime's unorthodox proposal. Neither of them wanted a big affair, so the ceremony was small and intimate. If needs be they would have a larger celebration in the future. Brienne felt bad that there wasn't enough time to get Tyrion to travel to Tarth. He was busy with the Dragon Queen and a ship would take a fortnight to arrive. Jaime insisted that he did not mind, that Tyrion would understand and that he absolutely refused to wait a moment longer to make her his wife.

 

Her father had helped Jaime plan it all. The few guests were already invited and the Castle was buzzing with excitement. They did not wish to marry in a Sept; it did not suit them. And so they had married upon a cliff, under and arch of flowers; looking out across the water as the sun was setting. Brienne would never forget the way the warm yellow and orange light lit up Jaime’s face, highlighting his golden hair and sparkling in his jade eyes.

 

'What preoccupies your thoughts my Lady?' Jaime's words knocked Brienne out of her day dream. She looked down at their joined hands, squeezing tighter.

 

'You.' She replied. 'Always You.' Her face was warm, less out of embarrassment and more out of anticipation. They were Husband and Wife now; they were joined in the eyes of Gods and Men and all the Realm and soon they would be one... physically.

 

Jaime leaned over easily from his chair to whisper into Brienne's ear. 'Me? Or the thoughts of what I will be doing to you this night?' 

 

' _Jaime._ ' She chastised hotly, fearing someone could overhear such an exchange. He pulled back ever so slightly to see the familiar crimson stain blot her cheeks and neck.

 

'Yes, Wife?' Jaime asked, feigning innocence. This was the first time he had used the endearment. Brienne could never explain the sensation it caused within her to hear Ser Jaime Lannister call her his wife - and to sound absolutely besotted by the idea.

 

The food was brought forth, saving Brienne from having to reply. They ate and drank merrily, conversing with her Father and the other Lords and Ladies present. It had been a long time since Evenfall Hall had been used for such a joyous occasion; the people of Tarth had been waiting a long time for their Lady Knight to find happiness. Brienne ate little compared to the others, her mind was not in the mood for eating, she was nervous and excited and restless. This night she would lay with Jaime Lannister - her husband and best friend. Though the Gods cared naught for her looks they had truly blessed her by pairing her with Jaime; she could ask for nothing more - her was her perfect, if flawed, knight in shining armour.

 

Selwyn was well and truly in his cups. He too had waited a long time to see his daughter Wed and happy. Gods knew his island needed some happier days. He grabbed Brienne's unoccupied hand and tugged her to her feet.

 

'I wish to dance with my daughter.' Was his only explanation, whether he was talking to Brienne or Jaime or the Gods themselves no-one knew.

 

Brienne shuffled to the dance floor, transported back to a time when she would stand on his feet and be twirled through the air; imagining she was beautiful. Selwyn held her loosely, stumbling through his drunken steps, trying to stay in time with the music.

 

'My daughter, are you happy?' His words were slightly slurred and he could already see the answer written on her face - it had been there since the day she arrived home with Jaime. But he was Lord Selwyn Tarth, the Evenstar - he had a fatherly duty to be certain that his little girl was happy with her marriage.

 

'Yes Father, I'm happier than I ever thought I could be.' Selwyn smiled down at Brienne and embraced her tightly. They turned about the floor a couple more times before a hand came down on Selwyn's shoulder.

 

'May I?' Jaime asked.

 

'Son, you most definitely do not need permission!' And with that Selwyn walked away in search of another cup of wine and his most recent paramour.

 

Brienne melted into Jaime the minute his arms came to rest around her waist, they did not dance as she and her father had. They stood still, swaying slowly to the music, holding each other close. Brienne buried her face into Jaime's neck, feeling his pulse on her lips, her tongue poked out to taste him against her will. He shivered at the contact and held her tighter to his body. Jaime's hand gripped her waist as he smelled her hair; she smelled like ice and fire, tasted of passion and martyrdom - ever the conundrum.

 

The music and merriment continued around them as they stood together, their bodies barely moving to the music.

 

Abruptly, Jaime pulled back from Brienne's embrace. 'Come, Wife... we have some _private_ celebrating to do.' He took her hand and led her through the throng of people, not caring who he pushed aside or toppled out of their dance. No-one stopped them or questioned where they were heading; they could all see it on Jaime's determinedly motivated stride and in Brienne's bashful blush. Some hollered and cheered as they noticed the virginal bride being dragged to her bed chamber by the notorious Kingslayer. Brienne kept her eyes averted from the faces of the people she had grown up with and known all her life - the Lannister-instigated flames that brushed her neck and licked at her cheeks and chest was overwhelming without seeing the reaction of her childhood acquaintances.

 

Jaime stopped suddenly once the doors of the great hall had closed behind them, enveloping them in a comforting darkness. He pulled her close, forcing her to meet his eyes. 'Brienne, love. Are you embarrassed to be seen with an old wretch like me?' Jaime put as much self pity into his voice as he could muster on the most happiest day of his life - it wasn't easy.

 

'What? No!' He knew the remark would enflame her - he just wanted to get a reaction out of her - to take the pressure off. He knew that she wanted him as much as he desired her; but he also knew his Wench. Knew that she would be needlessly worrying about her lack of experience or him comparing her to his vile (once loved) sister. She had nothing to fear of course. This would be new for them both - something pure and untouched by anyone else. They would teach each other, learn the secret things that made the other squirm; they had the whole night and beyond to explore and touch and tease their way to pleasure. He could not stop the small smile that played its way across his lips at the thought.

 

'Jaime Lannister - it is _dishonourable_ to jape at the expense of your Wife.' Brienne commented when she saw the smirk flashing on his lips and in his eyes.

 

'As you well know, _Wench_ ,  I am not known for my honour. Luckily for you I am quite well practiced at dishonouring and besmirching.' He spun her around so that she was facing the direction of their bed chambers; her back pressed firmly against his muscled chest. His strong arms slid around her like a snake, coiling and tightening. His nose ran across the nape of her neck, through her hair to the shell of her ear. 'Let me teach you.' His voice was a gravelly whisper; silky smooth against her ear. Jaime kissed Brienne's neck slowly trailing his way down to her shoulder and collarbone; she gasped and leaned into him. Jaime's good hand came up to grasp her breast but just as his fingers were squeezing Brienne pulled away with a start. Her hand found his and she wrenched him up the hallway, towards their room, without so much as a backwards glance.

 

Jaime wished she had turned to see his arousal and the rare pink tint that adorned his chiseled cheek bones; Brienne had made him so hot and wanting and she didn't even get to enjoy the site of it. _That_ he would have to remedy. Jaime followed his eager wife, watching as she straightened her clothing, stole and extra breath and opened the door to their rooms.

 

Brienne gasped when she saw the room; book shelves lined one wall - floor to ceiling, their bed was massive, covered with cushions and furs and blankets. The chandelier that hung above the foot of the bed was crammed with large candles as was the fireplace. The whole room felt warm and inviting and safe - she could not have wished for more.

 

Jaime could tell that Brienne was impressed with the room; he was glad. He had requested the extra candles and blankets so that the room would feel more homely; and with Selwyn's commanding presence at his side he had managed to arrange it all in a miraculously short time. Jaime moved past Brienne, across the room to the table by the small window; he poured them both a cup of wine.

 

Brienne looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her. Not in the physical way that others expected. But she was beautiful in the was she was shy and hesitant and brave all at once. In the way her eyes shone like Sapphires every time he touched her or kissed her or made fun of her. The way her ever present blush would creep along her freckled skin, quicker than he could follow - enticing his lips to seek out its course.

 

'Brienne, my Wife.' Jaime said softly, pulling her from her musings. Her pupils were wide and bright, her flesh prickled with goosebumps. This man was her's and she was his and now they could finally give themselves to one another fully, without the persecution or judgement of others.

 

Jaime smiled at her, languidly. "Close the door and come here." He said in a voice that brokered no arguments.

 

Brienne did as he bayed, leaving the rest of the world behind the solid oak door. Tonight it was just she and Jaime.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys!!! :-) MUCH LOVE!! -X-


	6. 6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding Night celebrations.....

 

 

The flickering candles bathed them in a golden warmth. Their shadows danced around the room, entwining; then repelling - but always coming back to one another. Much was the way of their relationship - together one moment; thrust apart another. But not matter what obstacles the Gods threw at the Jaime and Brienne always found their way back to each other.

 

Brienne had slowly approached Jaime; at first she appeared hesitant but then Jaime could see that she was enjoying herself - savouring this momentous moment. Jaime wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull her close, to touch every part of her. But he resisted; restrained himself, he allowed her this moment. Knew she would remember it for all her days; she was, after all, giving herself to him. _Just_ him. From this night and all the days and nights that followed. 

 

Jaime knew he had never loved another person with the intensity and gut-wrenching pride that he did Brienne. She was so strong and capable; had overcome so much - yet still, somehow, she managed to keep her sense of honour and ideology intact. She was the most outstanding person he had ever met. 

 

Jaime placed the cup he was drinking from on the small table behind him. His fingers - real and phantom - itched to reach out for her, to pull her close. But he knew that she needed to do this; take this step in their relationship. He would let her come to him, surrender to him as he had to her.

 

Brienne was a hairs-breadth away, Jaime could see her shaking from the nerves and excitement that boiled within her. 

 

'Jaime.' Her breath hitched as she placed her large hands on Jaime's chest. She could feel his heart hammering beneath her palms, his firm chest rising and falling steadily.

 

'Brienne,' he purred. 'This will be a night not easily forgotten.' He did pull her close then; his restraint wavering. 'And I would have you call me Husband.' He pressed his body fully into hers. And though they had been this close - and closer - in the past, Brienne was pleasantly shocked and how hard he was already. His lips found her long neck and began to travel the length of it, biting and nipping as he went.

 

'Ser, I will call you thus _only_ once you have fulfilled your duties and proven yourself worthy of the title.' She blushed; but it was out of excitement rather than embarrassment. Being wed to Jaime meant that she could truly open up with him. Their verbal banter had always been as charged as their sparring with swords - even if Jaime had always had the advantage with words.

 

'Wench, I will perform my duties so well that you may very well forget my name... and your own.' He grinned and kissed her softly. 

 

Jaime spun them around so that he had Brienne pinned against the small table; her thighs digging into the wood. 'But you _will_ call me Husband.' His mouth descended upon her lips, devouring her until hey were both gasping for air. He gave her little reprieve; as soon as she had filled her lungs with air he was on her again, his hand and stump grasped the back of her thighs and he lifted her slightly so that she was now sitting on the dangerously tiny table. Jaime leaned over her, his hand gripping her thigh and hip tightly as his right arm supported her weight. They had sent the wine and cups sprawling across the floor.

 

'Jaime, the table...' Brienne said, the creaking sounds ominous to her ears. 

 

'The table will be the first of many casualties.' Jaime said lasciviously. Even so he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and walking them both towards the exquisitely large bed. 

 

Brienne was shocked by Jaime's strength and agility whilst carrying her weight. Of course she knew he was stronger than most, but she was nothing like the petite brides that most men dreamed of. Jaime lowered her onto the bed, nestling her amongst the furs and pillows. Brienne sighed at his touch, melting into her comfortable surroundings. The bed, the candlelight, Jaime's touch: Brienne felt loved and safe. After so many years of running and fighting and failing it was almost hard to believe that they were really here; together and finally able to be _together_.

 

Brienne found Jaime's weight on her comforting; she felt secure with him holding her tight - touching every inch of her. His lips traced her cheek, neck, shoulder, collarbones; hands following in their wake, caressing and grasping. 

 

Brienne was panting with the effort to remain somewhat still beneath him. It was hard not to push him away, or drag him impossibly closer; her urges and instincts were conflicted in a beautiful rage.. His soft ministrations were a torture the like of which she had never known. Finally she took a handful of his tunic and dragged him back up to her lips. Jaime's mouth met hers eagerly and hungrily, drawing whimpers and soft sighs from deep within her; in his response Jaime could only growl and kiss her harder.

 

Before Brienne could register what had happened Jaime had her half naked and disheveled amongst the thick furs. Jaime's shirt was hanging loosely open - apparently Brienne's hands had been busy too.

 

Jaime pulled back to take in the sight of Brienne below him; so much like the fantasies he had experienced over recent years. Brienne was flushed, her skin aglow in the candle light; her eyes were blown - wide and wanting. Her lips were plump and pink from all of their fevered kisses.

 

'Perfect.' He breathed; his chest heaving. Jaime leant down to kiss his bride once more - soft and sweet - as he gently removed the remainder of Brienne's clothing, tasting each new spot of uncovered skin.

 

Jaime moved to take off the rest of his clothing; his shirt already askew and his breeches now painfully tight due to his arousal. Brienne's large, gentle hands stopped him.

 

'Let me.' She whispered, her voice soft as silk and full of adoration. Jaime could never explain how enticing he found Brienne's innocent tenderness.

 

Her fingers deftly pulled his tunic over his head; his hair falling in disarray across his forehead and eyes. Brienne threw his shirt across the room, her hands couldn't resist reaching out to smooth down his golden hair a little. Her fingers slid down to his golden-silver beard, nails scraping against his cheeks as her hands continued down. 

 

Jaime's breath stuttered as Brienne's nimble hands traced their way down his neck to his shoulders. Finally sweeping across his defined chest and down over his muscled, slim stomach. A coy smile formed on Brienne's plump lips. Seeing and hearing how Jaime reacted to her touch was more arousing than she could explain.

 

Soon Jaime was devoid of his breeches too. They both took their time exploring the planes of each others bodies. The curves and muscles and scars that made them who they were. Becoming accustomed to the feel of their naked bodies moving against one another and the sensations it caused.

 

Between full, heated kisses, the only thing Brienne could utter was Jaime's name - and a few prayers to the Gods themselves. 'Jaime.' It was a prayer... 'Jaime.' A curse of the most delicious temperament. ' _Jaime._ ' 

 

Jaime moved his way slowly down her strong, writhing body. His lips paid particular attention to her neck; his tongue favoured her round breasts and pert nipples. When Jaime finally reached his destination between her thighs his lips and tongue worked together in harmony to bring Brienne apart. She bucked against him; her hands fisted in his tangled hair. Jaime was relentless in his sweet torture and soon Brienne was screaming out his name a final time as her climax overtook her senses.

 

Jaime's grin was purely predatory as he looked up at her; face flushed bright, sweat soaking her hair and running down between her breasts, glistening in the candlelight. Her eyes finally opened as he made his way back up to the top of the bed and he was rewarded with stunning sapphires.

 

'Is my wife satisfied?' Jaime asked, a knowing lilt in his voice.

 

Brienne was riding high off her ecstasy, unable to verbalize her thoughts. So in lieu of words she slowly shook her head from side to side.

 

'Insatiable.' He cursed. Diving in for a breathtaking kiss, his good hand finding its place between her thighs; building her up once more. 'I don't think that _everybody_ on Tarth quite heard your screams of rapture Wench. I'll not have it said that I was less than up to my husbandly duties.' He left her mouth to suckle at her breast, his hand still working between her legs. She moaned and grunted, arching her back and pressing her breast firmer against his mouth.

 

As Brienne began to writhe and strain uncontrollably against him, Jaime pulled back, not wanting her to come just yet. His hand came up to trace her breast, his weight rested on his stump and his lips ghosted over hers. 

 

Only when she opened her bright eyes and looked into Jaime's did he enter her. Excruciatingly slowly at first, allowing Brienne to get used to the feeling, as well as savouring it. Jaime pushed into her, slowing and sweetly, over and over - deeper each time he thrust his hips. 

 

'Are you ok?' He asked - so quietly that he wasn't even sure that he'd spoken the words aloud. Brienne's answering nod bought a smile to his lips. His teeth teased her bottom lip and soon they were both panting from the effort of going slow and the effort of drawing out the sensations enveloping them. 

 

Their unspoken consents drove them both to move a little faster, to build the tension to breaking point. Soon they were moving as one, opposites reacting to one another simultaneously. Shared gasps grew louder and stronger as their pleasure grew. Jaime's hips snapped against Brienne's with more force as her own hips came up to meet his; her body instinctively finding his.

 

Jaime and Brienne both roared their climaxes; arriving together and basking in the blinding pleasure that washed over them.

 

'That scream _may_ have reached the docks.' Jaime said once he was able to breath slightly easier. 'Next time the _whole_ damned island will hear you.' A small chuckle accompanied his words.

 

Brienne swiped at his bicep - too drained to put any kind of force into it. Jaime came to lay beside his lady wife, pulling her into his arms and against his chest, his heartbeat beginning to slow to its regular pace once more.

 

'That was... _Indescribable_.' Brienne whispered against his sweat laden skin. 

 

' _That_ was just the begging, love.' Jaime goaded seriously. 'Besides, a lannister always pays his debts.'

 

'You owe me nothing Ser.' Brienne said tiredly but sincerely. She snuggled further into his warm body.

 

Jaime's hold tightened around her waist, his lips brushing against her forehead, kissing her ivory skin as he spoke. 'I owe you everything Brienne... _everything_.' 

 

'As I owe you...' Brienne replied. '...Husband.' She added hushedly. 

 

Soon both were sleeping soundly, smiles fixed on their faces, arms intertwined around each-others naked bodies. Together.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that wasn't too bad..... I suck... :( :(
> 
> MUCH LOVE PEEPS!! -X-


	7. 7.

 CHAPTER 7.

 

Brienne had been pleasantly surprised (more than shocked) to find that she and Jaime made an incomparable match in the bedroom.

 

At first she thought that Jaime was just trying to aleviate some of her lingering nerves and fear. But he had  _insisted_  that he spoke the truth; he had never known anything like the way he felt when they were joined. And who was Brienne to argue - the proof was on his face every time they coupled; every minute of every day since their wedding night.

 

It had been a fortnight since their marriage and Brienne had expected their initial passion to diminish somewhat. But she and Jaime could not get enough of each other. They sought each other out daily; Jaime would coax and tease her into staying abed longer than neccessary each morning and drag her off to their chambers far earlier than what seemed appropriate in the evenings.

 

Not that she minded of course - 'appropriate' was not a word easily associated with either herself or her Husband.

 

What had surprised her most of all was how much she enjoyed being taken by Jaime.  _really_  taken; he would overpower her - make her bend and break to his will. Her most delicious memory (and she had  _many_  to choose from) was from their wedding night. 

 

After making love for the first time, and then after the second time a few hours later. Jaime had accosted her in the early hours of the morning whilst she was attempting to drink a large cup of water  _and_  tidy up some of the mess they had made. Cups and cushions, candles and clothing were strewn all over their room.

 

Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her back into his embrace.

 

"Leave it." He whispered huskily into her ear. "We are far from finished and I will not have my Wife cleaning up like a common house- "

 

" _Wench_?" Brienne cut in sardonically.

 

"Hush woman!" Jaime laughed, his nose nuzzling into her neck and hair, teeth teasing at her pale skin.

 

"Make me." Brienne said; suddenly serious. 

 

Jaime pressed his mouth to her's forcefully, drawing the most mulish whimpers he had ever heard from her. He knocked the half full cup from her grasp, soaking the rug benath their bare feet. He pressed his body into her's, forcing her to step backwards in retreat.

 

Brienne grunted as her back collided with the ceiling-high bookshelves that covered one wall of their chambers. A few books toppled and fell from their places. Jaime's good hand gripped a shelf to the side of Brienne's head, his knuckles white with the effort; his stumped arm rested at her lower back, pressing her thighs harshly into his own. His hips thrust and ground against her as his mouth devoured her lips, her tongue, every inch of her exposed, once-innocent flesh.

 

Brienne did not fight him - his eagerness and virility; she enjoyed the sensation of being overthrown, of being possessed. By Jaime.  _Only_  Jaime. She sighed and simpered and moaned her pleasure. 

 

Finally, Jaime hooked his arms around her thighs and lifted her up against the shelving; entering her in one swift, strong motion - a raw growl ripped from his throat. Brienne had never more like a woman and less like a lady as her hips snapped back against Jaime's, meeting him stroke for stroke.

 

Her back dug into the wooden shelves; her skin was marred by Jaime as he left his mark at every spot he visited - which was everywhere - and her muscles ached from the strain of their joined activities. But she would not stop - could not stop for anything. Jaime seized her over and over; her name a ragged prayer on his lips. Soon her body was shaking with the need of her release, she squirmed uncontrollably against Jaime, her small breasts bouncing against his chest. He took a nipple into his warm, wet mouth and sucked as hard as he could, biting into her tender flesh as he relentlessly fucked her against the wall, never giving her a reprieve. Jaime's good hand found her hair, taking a handful and dragging her lips to his. He swallowed her screams as she came undone and only then did he allow himself to follow.

 

Jaime dropped her - somewhat unceremoniously - to her wobbly feet. Brienne was as flushed and dishevelled and  _satisfied_  as he had ever see. Her mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smile.

 

Jaime grinned widely, his breathing laboured. "I  _told_  you I was strong enough.' 

 

He laughed as Brienne threw a rather large book in his direction and then proceeded to push him back towards their bed.

 

* * *

 

Brienne returned to the present, excusing herself from her company, feining she had greater tasks to attend to. Her feet moved swiftly.

 

_Where was her Husband?_

 

She turned a corner and then another, hoping she wouldn't have to search the entire Island for her lover.

 

Then, as if he'd heard her thought, Jaime appeared before her at the end of a long corridor. Jaime grinned and all but ran to her. Had he truly heard her thoughts? Brienne sometimes wondered.

 

"Where are you heading?" He whispered as he kissed her cheek.

 

"I was looking for you, My Lord." Brienne's eyes were alight with desire. She kissed Jaime soundly on the lips, her intentions clear.

 

"Sometimes I think you forget that you have married an old man. You'll be the death of me, Sweetling." Jaime said.

 

"You have yet to fail in your performances." She replied saucily.

 

"Luckily for you my cock doesn't seem to know it's age." He teased, kissing her more thoroughly, his tongue finding her's.

 

Brienne gasped as Jaime's good hand found the curve of her hip and then continued on to squeeze her ass. She took a handful of his tunic and dragged him back into a dark crevice.

 

Hopefully this time no maids or squires would happen upon them. The embarrassment of being caught -  _again_ \- was almost enough for them to stop and find somewhere more appropriate to continue their ministrations.  _Almost_... But not enough.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be the last chapter....I kind of had a brain blockage and don't know where else to go with this fic.... I have another one in mind but am trying to write it before posting so that it doesnt happen again! LOL
> 
> THANKS FOR READING GUYS!!! YOU ALL ROCK!!! :) -X-

* * *

 

"You wound me dear brother, getting married without me present." The smile on Tyrion's face told Jaime that he wasn't truly upset. "You know how much I love a good wedding."  
  
"Brother, I do believe you care more about the wine and after-celebrations than missing the ceremony itself." Jaime raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.  
  
"You know me too well," Tryion smirked. "But I do so wish I could have seen you wed your Bride." His eyes twinkled.  
  
"Do _not_ mock her Tyrion." Jaime warned, anger seething beneath his words. Tyrion's eyes merely glinted in amusement.  
  
"I am being sincere. I have always wanted you to be happy - _truly_ happy - and any fool with eyes can see that you are more content than ever before." Tyrion's words were kind and honest. Jaime bent down and hugged his brother. He had missed him sorely. Perhaps they could begin to build bridges now.  
  
"Get off me you golden fool." Tyrion jested. "And take me to meet my good-sister."  
  
A smiled bloomed immediately on Jaime's face at the mention of his wife.  
  
"She's in the training yard. Come, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to make you acquaintance."  
  
Tyrion was sure that would not exactly be the case; he had heard that The Maid (former Maid) of Tarth was incredibly shy and did not relish social engagements.  
  
  
Brienne noticed Jaime and Tyrion approaching so she put down her practice sword and dusted off her blue jerkin. She was sweaty and dirty as she moved to meet them.  
  
Before any one could be introduced Jaime pulled her to him; kissing her lips briefly but soundly - their usual greeting since their marriage.  
  
Brienne blushed slightly as Tyrion witnessed the affectionate moment. Her cheeks no longer flamed red as they once did when Jaime touched her, but there was always a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and trailing down her long neck. It was just the effect he had on her.

"Brienne this is my brother, Tyrion." Jaime leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, "Don't believe anything he tells you." He said conspiratorially. Brienne could hear the humour underlying his voice and knew he was jesting. "Tyrion; my wife Brienne - your new Sister." Jaime and Tyrion both smiled broadly at one another; flashing their white teeth.

"I'm sure you will be much more agreeable than the other one!" Tyrion quipped, obviously referring to Cersei. He took Brienne's hand in his own and squeezed it gently. He pulled gently so that Brienne lowered herself a few inches before him. "And you should believe  _everything_ I tell you My Lady - especially if it's in regards to this one." He said: tilting his head in Jaime direction.

Brienne looked back at Jaime, he was smiling freely. Jaime clasped Tyrion on the shoulder. "Brother, do not harass my wife with your so-called humour until she has time to adjust to your _unique_ personality." Jaime drew Brienne back to his side once more; his grip was firm and grounding.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted your training Lady Brienne. Please do continue." Tyrion said amiably.

"Please call me Brienne, Lord Tyrion. And I was just finishing up, it's no problem."

"Good-sister, you must call me Tyrion. And I was rather hoping to see your skills at work. Perhaps you could trounce my big brother for my amusement - then we shall eat!" Brienne shook her head, amused; a small smile graced her lips. Jaime heard her mutter _'The Lannister Brothers'_ before she removed herself from his grip and picked up her sword once more.

"Husband." She addressed Jaime, tossing him a spare sword - which he caught easily with his left hand. Jaime grinned from ear to ear as he approached her and their bout began.

 

* * *

 

It was immediately clear to Tyrion what had attracted Jaime to the giant woman from Tarth. She was strong and fierce and worthy of proving herself thus. Though she would not be considered conventionally pretty Tyrion could see the beauty of her movements during combat, her graceful sword swings and delicate footwork.

Jaime and Brienne both came alive when fighting; but Tyrion suspected never so much as when they faced one another. He could see the pride in his brother’s eyes when Brienne dodged his blade or landed a blow of her own. The young Jaime Lannister would have only seen insolence and anger at such actions. But, then; perhaps not if he had been duelling against the true love of his life. Tyrion doubted the younger, more naive Jaime would have seen Brienne for the true beauty she was back then - he was too full of arrogance.

The bout ended as a draw so far as Tyrion could tell. His brother and good-sister excused themselves so that they could freshen up and change into more suitable attire for dinner. Tyrion went in search of the best wine he could find.

 

* * *

 

The three of them had a private meal in Jaime and Brienne’s rooms.

Jaime and Tyrion laughed freely as they reminisced about childhood adventures – many of which included running and hiding from their father afterwards. Brienne joined in, lightly scolding Jaime for his childhood misdeeds.

The trio ate well and drank heartily; though Brienne preferred to water down her wine. As the evening drew to a close Brienne felt a pang of regret at having lost her siblings so young; as if reading her thoughts Jaime squeezed her knee under the table in reassurance. She had a new family now.

 

* * *

 

As they readied for bed Brienne fidgeted, nervously pacing by the window.

‘Come Wench, my bed needs warming.’ Jaime smirked. He had already removed his jerkin, undershirt and boots whilst Brienne remained fully clothed. He started to deftly unlace his breeches – his left hand now an expert at the task. When he received no reply from Brienne he walked towards her; his breeches hanging open over his hips and his bare feet cold on the floor.

‘What troubles your mind?’ He said softly as he began to unlace her jerkin; sliding it over her broad shoulders.

Brienne hesitated slightly before taking a calming breath and asking, ‘Did...did he like me?’

Jaime chuckled affectionately. ‘This is what has our avoiding our bed?’ His hand pulled at the tie on her shirt; it fell open to reveal smooth, pale skin – marred only by the now faded claw marks from a long dead bear. Jaime caressed the ski on her neck before running his hand and stump down her sides to bunch her shirt around her waist. He tugged the fabric, untucking it from her breeches.

'Wench, he _loves_ you.' Jaime slid the garment up her sides, caressing her body as he went. He pulled it over her head, sending her hair out at odd angles and she huffed. She did not believe her husband.

Jaime cupped her face and kissed her lips softly. 'Brienne, I _promise_ you - Tyrion couldn't be happier. The little imp had been _begging_ me for years to find someone who loves me as much as I love them. He'd be doing cartwheels if it weren't for all the fool jokes I would make as his expense.'

Brienne smiled slightly then and returned Jaime's kiss. His hand roamed down her bare back, over her hip and began to unlace her breeches.

'Now, come to bed.' He pulled her by her open breeches towards him as he lead her back to their large, inviting bed. He kissed her neck, behind her ear, her cheek. 'Uncle Tyrion insists that we have a babe on the way the next time he visits.' Jaime murmured against her skin.

Jaime guffawed at the shocked expression that passed over Brienne's features. She pushed him playfully back onto the bed as she shimmied out of her breeches and kicked off her boots.

Brienne laughed as Jaime pulled her down to join him - she had suspected for a few days that she may already be with child...

 

 ~ END ~

 

 

 

  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is working for everyone so far….
> 
> Reviews and Kudos are love….and i love LOVE!!! :) cheers peeps! -X-


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